


It gets everywhere

by Godsliltippy



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, QUICKSAND
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 14:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15996995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godsliltippy/pseuds/Godsliltippy
Summary: Just a rescue during a rescue. Virgil has to improvise to save his brother’s life.





	It gets everywhere

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, forgot I wrote this :D
> 
> Enjoy!

“Gordon?” Virgil grunted as he pulled at the line he'd just thrown over the sturdiest branch that crossed their path. The limb gave a gentle shake, leaves swaying just above the forest floor. He paused in his labor, listening for an answer.

 

There was a tired sigh over the comm. “You know what's worse than being stuck at the bottom of a pit with a crate on top of you?” 

 

The elder Tracy grinned. “Being stuck in a pit full of quicksand?”

 

“And mummified dead animals. Don't forget those.” The memory of Gordon’s frantic struggling came back to him at the mentioning of the pristine corpses, preserved by the earth as it sucked them down to their doom. Virgil could understand his brother’s insistence of remembering. It sent a chill up his spine just thinking about it and he wasn't the one trapped under the sand.

 

“Hold tight, I'm getting the crate secured and then I'll lift it out.” Virgil went back to checking the line. He found the side of the case protruding from the pit, attaching the rope to the handle. He hoped the contents were still intact after their dip. The researchers were still in need of the equipment to repair their on-site medical unit. One of the members had managed a pretty decent rib fracture after falling from one of the observation stations a few weeks back, and with the loss of their medical unit, the concern for further treatment if anything changed with the individual had warranted a call to IR.

 

Virgil and Gordon had been sent to pick up and deliver the supplies, but they’d soon realized there was no way to land or drop the crate safely. They'd decided on landing at a local outpost a few miles out and hiking in from there. Not an ideal plan, but with how dense the area had grown after the World powers had declared the rainforests be protected, any of the pods would be too destructive to make it through. 

 

Gordon had taken the lead while Virgil navigated, allowing his younger brother to see any obstacles in there way. Unfortunately, a sharp rattling in the treetops had distracted the aquanaut as he took the step into the deceptively still clearing. 

 

One moment, Virgil had been watching the back of his brother's helmet, the next, the blue had disappeared, the front of the box falling forward after him. Which brought them to their current predicament. 

 

“Alright, Gordo.” He was finally letting the eagerness to get his brother out take over. He needed to do this now. “Lifting the crate.” 

 

“FAB, Virg.” He could hear the strain beneath the words. 

 

The engineer worked quickly, looping the rope behind him, stepping back slowly as the tension increased under the weight of their cargo. Gradually, the crate began to lift towards the surface, the weight of it sending unnerving groans through the branch above. Not for the first time, he hoped he’d picked the correct tree. 

 

With each step, the box rose until finally it crested the surface, wet sand dripping from its edges. And an arm, the gloved hand clinging to the handle, emerged with it.  

 

One last step and Virgil was tying the cord around the nearest tree he could find. Satisfied with his work, he ran to the edge and fell to his hands and knees. He reached out, taking hold of the hand, grunting as Gordon let go of the handle, releasing his full weight on his older brother’s grip. There was an odd pull from the quicksand, suction seeming to grasp to his brother's form. Although the top of the quicksand seemed to ripple with their movements, further down would be much thicker, unwilling to relinquish its hold. 

 

“Gordon!” He panted, his arms straining as the arm came up another inch. “Can you find something - to step on?”

 

He could hear the effort and feel it as the arm pulled against his, Gordon trying to find some kind of leverage to move his legs. “I think- I found the side - but it's too soft. I sink right in.”

 

Virgil took a steadying breath before he spoke. “Alright, looks like we’ll have to do this slowly. Once you're closer to the surface - it should get easier.” What he wouldn't give for another rope he could give his brother. One slip up and Gordon would go right back down. 

 

Fifteen minutes later, the blonde’s helmet appeared, the head swiveling to find the open air. Oxygen hadn't been an issue thankfully, but Virgil could see the anxiety wash from Gordon’s face as he took in the afternoon sunlight. He'd had his helmet lights for company, but there was a distinct difference. 

 

“Hey, sunshine!” The grin on the boyish face set one on the engineer’s, but the moment was short lived as he went back to pulling. A second arm dislodged from the muck, reaching to secure a hold to Virgil’s wrist. 

 

With each inch, the next came easier, the yellow sash finally visible, then his chest, waist, and with one final pull, the brothers collapsed on the bank of the pit. They lay there, gasping from exertion, muscles twinging from the abuse. 

 

Virgil threw an arm around the smaller form next to him, pulling him into an awkward hug. “Next time, watch your step.”

 

“Don't have to tell me twice.” Another minute of rest and they were pushing themselves to their feet. 

 

Virgil gave his brother a once over, thankful for the mud-covered suit that had saved his life. If it weren't for the helmet… He stopped that train of thought immediately. “You good to keep going?”

 

“Oh yeah.” Gordon placed his hands at the small of his back, stretching the stiff muscles. “As long as we avoid any more sand baths.”

 

“FAB.” Virgil clapped a hand on the aquanaut's shoulder. “I'll have John scan the area for any other land abnormalities.”

 

After the new course was set, and their astronaut brother had been assured they were both fine, they'd hefted the crate once more, on their way to the next rescue. 


End file.
